


Bored Now

by whichclothes



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-24
Updated: 2010-04-24
Packaged: 2017-10-09 03:02:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichclothes/pseuds/whichclothes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> I clicked on the wrong button for this month's nekid numbers challenge at <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/nekid_spike/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/nekid_spike/"><b>nekid_spike</b></a> , and ended up with Willow and The Magic Box as my prompts. Thus we have my first attempt at het. Sorta. This takes place early in BtVS season 5. Willow's studying. Spike's bored. As always, I adore feedback.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bored Now

  
  
  
**Entry tags:**| [spike/willow](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spike/willow)  
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_**Bored Now**_  
**Title:** Bored Now (1/1)  
**Pairing:** Spike/Willow  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Summary:** I clicked on the wrong button for this month's nekid numbers challenge at [](http://community.livejournal.com/nekid_spike/profile)[**nekid_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/nekid_spike/) , and ended up with Willow and The Magic Box as my prompts. Thus we have my first attempt at het. Sorta. This takes place early in BtVS season 5. Willow's studying. Spike's bored. As always, I adore feedback.

**Bored Now**

          
      “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

Her head snapped up from the book she’d been buried in. “What—what are you doing here?” she stammered.

“Public access. Don’t need an invite.” He sauntered a few steps closer and picked up a bronze statue, looked at it curiously for a moment, and then set it down again.

She leaned back in her chair, moving herself slightly farther away from him. “What do you want?”

He shrugged. “Heard about the grand opening. Thought I’d take a look. “ He took three or four more steps and then stopped to frown at a display of ornately carved crosses. “Not sure I’m feeling very welcomed, though.”

“The shop is closed.”

He tsked and folded himself gracefully into the chair opposite hers. “Big mistake, I say. Town like Sunnyhell, you really ought to have later hours. Cater more to the night crowd.”

She looked around her nervously, but he knew there was nobody else in the shop. She was reading all alone, all sweet and delicious and completely vulnerable if it weren’t for the sodding chip.

But he was bored. And the chunk of plastic wouldn’t stop him from playing a bit.

“If the shop’s closed, what are you doing here, then?”

“Oh. Well, there have been some break-ins lately around here, and Giles and Anya don’t have the alarm system running yet, so I volunteered to, um, shop-sit for a while.”

“Very generous of you, pet.” He pulled the open book toward him and read a few paragraphs. “Oh, this is all wrong, luv. What kind of shite are you trying to fill your head with?”

She glared at him slightly and tugged the book back. “It’s for my history class. We have a test tomorrow.”

“And this is the book you’re expected to learn from?”

She nodded at him and he shook his head. “Bollocks. See, Rasputin was turned shortly after that whore tried to kill him in 1914. Didn’t do it myself, but I knew the vamp who did. And that ‘hemophilia’ the prince had, well—“

“Spike.”

“Yeah, luv?”

“I can’t write in my exam that Rasputin was a vampire.”

“But he was! And after that second murder attempt, he sort of laid low, but Dru and I stuck around because Russia was bloody beautiful, then, starvation and bloodshed everywhere and—“

“Spike!”

He looked at her balefully. “I saw him again, you know. In the 50’s, near Naples. He had these two birds with him, really posh bints with this ace Lancia, bright red, and he was calling himself Santo, which was rather a joke….” He trailed off as he realized that Willow had allowed her face to sink into the pages of the text.

“Fine,” he said. If she didn’t want to know what really happened, he wasn’t going to tell her. He crossed his arms over his chest and sat there silently. He was definitely not pouting.

Finally, she looked up at him. “I’m sorry,” she said, and he could see that she actually was. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, because I do, I mean you were there because you’re a lot older than me, not that you look old, because you look really good, and….” She blushed and shut her mouth.

Spike quirked one eyebrow at her and her face grew even redder. Hmm. She and the other witch had been all hot and heavy of late, but before that there had been the dog boy, and…hmm.

Spike leaned back and spread his legs and leered. “If you don’t want to learn proper history, I could teach you something else, you know.”

Now her face was as red as her hair. “No, uh, that’s, uh, that’s okay. I have to…have to be with the Russian Revolution and all, because there’s this test tomorrow, and I already told you that, didn’t I?”

He smirked and shrugged off his duster, allowing it to drape over the back of the chair. “Best get to reading, then, luv,” he purred, gesturing at the book.

She nodded tightly and then looked down again.

“Where is she?” he asked several minutes later.

Willow looked up at him. “Who? Buffy?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Nah. Know where she is. Off with her soldier boy, shagging or patrolling. I mean your girl, the one with the big—“

“Tara.”

He smiled. “Yeah. Tara.”

“She drove to San Francisco with Giles to get some stuff for the store. I couldn’t go because of my exam, and he needed someone who knows witchcraft, and why do you care?”

He shrugged. “Just wondering why you were alone. Usually you’re surrounded by the other white hats. What about the others? The whelp and his demon girl?”

“They’re, uh….”

“Rutting like bunnies in that awful basement?”

She rolled her eyes. “Probably.”

“And you all by yourself.”

“Yes. Studying. Because that’s what I’m doing, is studying, see?” She pointed at the book.

“Of course, luv. You go right ahead.”

For a long time he was silent. He gazed at the store, for the first time really taking in the arrays of dried stuff in jars and colored stones and leather-bound tomes and all the rest. Not a bad selection, actually, though he’d wager they had anything truly dangerous hidden away somewhere. Absently, he started to hum, but Red shot him a look and he quieted.

He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her, of soap and shampoo and some kind of herbs and magic and the other witch. Her own personal scent was young and green, like the earth in Spring, but with a slight undercurrent of something dark and powerful. He remembered the time he’d almost bitten her, right after he’d escaped the Initiative. That had been nearly a year ago, nearly a year since he’d been able to sink his fangs into a proper meal, and she was even more delectable now.

Without saying a word, he pulled his black t-shirt over his head and let it fall on the floor next to him.

Willow looked at him, her eyes wide. “Spike? What are you doing?”

“Nothing, luv. Just a mite warm. You people ought to turn up the AC in here.” He laced his hands behind his head and tightened the muscles in his chest just a bit.

“Spike, I’m—“

“Studying. I know. You go right ahead. Don’t let me disturb you.” He put on his most innocent look. She frowned and opened her mouth as if she was going to say something more, then shut it.

He’d had a bit of fun, and he could have left then. Perhaps found a nice demon or two to pulverize, or a dimwitted fledge or two to play with. But the creepies had actually been a bit thin of late, and he didn’t particularly want to risk running into the Slayer and the big tosser she was always with. He could dig up Harmony somewhere, get his end away. But she’d been especially grating on his nerves lately and he wasn’t certain he could stand her.

So instead he stood and stretched luxuriantly, and then he stalked slowly around the shop, peering into bins and sniffing at things and poking at talismans. Willow pretended to ignore him, but he knew she was watching from the corners of her eyes, and he deliberately twisted and reached, showing off the play of muscles across his shoulders and back. Finally, he picked up a big red book—a treatise on Yarbnie demons—dead boring but that wasn’t the point. He carried it back to the table, kicked off his boots, and sat back down.

“What are you doing?”

“Just getting comfortable. Letting my toes air.” He held his legs out sideways and stretched his feet to demonstrate his point, then wiggled his toes and tucked his legs back under the table.

She sighed. “What do you want, Spike? ‘Cause you could just tell me and I could get it for you, and then I could read in peace.”

He smiled beatifically. “Don’t want anything, luv. Just going to do a spot of research on Yarbnies, see?”

She frowned at him skeptically and then turned a page.

He pretended to read for a time. Really, though, he was watching her, the way her lovely brows drew together a bit when she concentrated, the way she rolled her eyes upward for a few seconds when she was thinking, the way she occasionally lifted a delicate hand to push her fringe out of her eyes. He stifled a sigh. She’d make such a beautiful vampire.

Moving his arms just enough so he was sure she would notice, he unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his flies. He didn’t look up at her, though, as he shifted slightly on the wooden chair and pulled out his mostly-soft cock and let it rest against his lower belly. Then he laid his hand just above it, slowly breathing in and out, his eyes half-closed.

He heard her swallow.

“Spike,” she said in a slightly wavering voice.

“Hmmm?” he rumbled.

“Gay now. I mean, there’s Tara and I love her and boys are nice and all, but—“

“’S all right, pet. You can keep your eyes on your book. I can handle this myself, yeah?” And he smirked and grasped his cock in his left hand.

Just knowing she was watching, her face scarlet and her breath slightly uneven, was enough to make his cock twitch in his fingers and fill. He toyed a bit with the foreskin, pushing it forward and back, hiding then revealing the pinkish crown.

“Spike—“

“Did your wolf ever do this for you, Red? Let you see while he wanked?”

“N-n-no,” she said, and her voice was barely over a whisper.

“Now, that’s a bloody shame. But maybe he was embarrassed. Tackle wasn’t quite up to snuff?”

“No, Oz’s tackle was plenty—“ she stopped herself and he smirked at her, but didn’t stop the rhythmic stroking he’d begun. He wondered if she knew that he could smell the blood rushing just beneath the skin of her face, a scent that made him even harder and that forced a breathy little moan from his throat.

Suddenly he wanted more of his skin bared for her, so he lifted his hips and shimmied out of his jeans, allowing them to land in a black puddle at his feet. He was wearing nothing now except the silver chain around his neck, and the warm night air caressed him like a lover. He could feel her gaze on him as well, gliding over him like silk, and he shivered and again wrapped his fist around his hungry organ, teasing himself with light brushes up and down the hard length.

He didn’t look at her. Didn’t need to right now. Could hear the little hitch in her breathing and the speedy thumpity-thump of her heart, could feel the heat of her radiating from her body in waves. He spread his legs widely and then brought his right hand up to play with his nipples. He pinched and rolled them a bit, making them burn and tingle. And then he dropped that hand and she gasped as he cradled his bollocks.

Precome had begun to bead and glisten on his glans, and he spread it with his thumb, enjoying the lubrication it provided. Underneath his arse, the wooden seat was smooth and cool, and the chair’s slats dug into his back just a small amount.

He peeked at her from under his brows. She’d abandoned all pretense of studying and was now staring intently at him, her mouth hanging slightly open and her eyes wide as saucers. He curled his tongue around his teeth and caught her gaze, and he was pleasantly surprised when she didn’t look away.

“Know what I’m thinking, pet?” His voice was hoarse.

She shook her head dumbly.

“’M imagining that it’s your hand that’s stroking me, smaller and softer than mine. And warm, not cold.” Not cold at all, like his and Harmony’s and Dru’s. How long since he truly had felt living skin against his corpse? He hadn’t forgotten, though, the way the pulse would buzz against him, the way his body would soak up the heat, the way the blood would thrum just millimeters away.

“You’d fancy it, too, wouldn’t you? Touching me, learning how different I am to your girl. She’s all soft and good and alive, and I’m hard and bad and dead.”

She trembled a little but didn’t deny what he said. Her hands were clenched so tightly atop the table, he wondered whether her nails were digging into her palms.

“Yeah,” he breathed, and his balls were tight against him, his words flowing unevenly. “I expect you might like a taste of me, to walk for a bit on the other side of the line and feel what it’s like not to be the good girl for a change.”

She actually nodded slightly at that, and he chuckled throatily.

His left hand sped its movements and he knew he was close. He could feel himself just at the very brink. His own panting echoed loudly in his ears.

“Spike,” she murmured.

That was enough. He fell over the edge, throwing his head back and howling as bright electricity raced through every nerve and he came so violently that for a moment his vision went gray and sparkly around the edges.

As he floated lightly back to earth, his hand slowed and stopped. She watched as he rubbed the stickiness into his belly, marking himself with his own scent and wishing it were hers.

He bent and drew his trousers back up his legs, then stood and fastened them, tucking his wet, soft cock back inside with a wink at the witch. His boots went on next, then his shirt, and finally his duster.

He walked around the table and bent over her, as close as he could get without touching her. Her scent was so intoxicating he felt himself growing hard again already.

“You’d best get back to your studies,” he rasped. “A smart girl like you wouldn’t want to fail that exam, would she?”

She turned her head and looked up at him, and he couldn’t begin to read the expression in her eyes. He reached out and she didn’t flinch as he smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. He placed his lips very, very near that pink shell and whispered, “When I get this chip out, the first thing I’ll do is turn you, luv. You’ll be magnificent.”

Then he placed a chaste kiss against her burning cheek and turned and left the shop, walking alone into the empty night.

 

\---_fin_\---


End file.
